Tag Der Toten: A RDNAverse Snapshot
by mdc1957
Summary: It has been 50 years since the Terror. While the festivities continue into the night, one caretaker decides to let his soon-to-be replacement in on certain ghosts from the past best kept to themselves. Another scene in the RDNA-verse unfolds.


**Author's Notes and Disclaimer:**

Here's a bit of a sidestory/drabble I made a while back on DeviantArt, set in the RDNA-verse 50 years after the Terror. This version though is more tidied up than the original though the main cusp of the story is very much the same.

_Tag der Toten_ is _El Día de los Muertos_ or "Day of the Dead" in German, an alternate (and very similar) version of the real life one in Mexico, which happened every 1st of November. That said, I hope you enjoy.

Also, I don't own _Axis Powers Hetalia_. All rights belong to their respective owners.

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><p><strong>Tag Der Toten: A RDNA-verse Snapshot<strong>

Neu Wien. 1977.

I'm not in liberty to discuss private matters to outsiders. Especially those pertaining to rumors on my watch. Consider this the exception. After all, you'll be poised to replace me by the end of the week. First things first, take that mask off. It may be festive out there but keep focus on what I'm about to tell you.

I don't deny that strange things have happened. I've been in this job for nearly 24 years. And the one before me was here from before the Terror. Yes, this property goes way back to the old colonial days. It has always been a resting place for the Habsburgs who happened to be here, as well as deserving patriots. But it was only after '27 that this became the exclusive crypt of the Dynasty. As they couldn't bring the ones buried in Vienna, surrogate graves were made in their memory. But you probably learned all that from the textbooks anyway. Let me cut to the chase.

As the chaos that followed began to wane, memorials were commissioned to honor those lost in the Terror. Popular demand, official backing, and the rest is history. You'd be aware of these, scattered across the country and elsewhere.

_Most _of them, anyway. And one of them is right here. There's a good reason for that. Be patient, I'll get to it. That bulky phone better not be ringing.

Around the early '30s, a handful of people made arrangements for a long marble slab to be set in the restricted parts of this property. The private garden, actually. Look. Engraved there prominently are the flags and arms of the Lost Nations. Below them are their names. Both their official ones and the ones they used as people. Or as much as they passed for people. You're probably confused at what I just said, were you? Well, I've been there.

Let me put it like this: those tall tales about personified Nations you've heard? The ones supposedly tied with us, but not quite human? They pretty much exist. Those alive anyway. And that slab is as much for _those casualties _as the peoples they represented. Obviously, not that many come by this part of the crypt. And the ones who do keep their mouths shut.

When you're in this kind of work, you're aware of things few others know of. As well as all sorts weird crap that happens around here. Comes with the package. Not really in the record, but there've been a lot of stories. It'll take years to sort through them all. But I can give a taste of things.

Back in '34, some oddly formed wisps were seen by the one polishing the marble, as well as one Dr. Ludwig Heisenberg. You might have heard of him. Treated someone in the Dynasty's household. Speaking of which, she apparently came here often, for some anniversary or the other. I must be winding again. In any case, whether there were actually two shapes is some mystery I don't intend to bore you with.

My predecessor told me this. And it's a good thing he and others took the bulk of it down. But it gets weirder. A few weeks ago, I heard the dying cries and screams of a German woman. Sounded more like a girl, really. Called out for someone. God, her brother, _anyone_, before devolving into screeches. Thought I was hearing things. But it was strongest at her section of the slab. Still can't keep them out of my damn head. Learned later that it was around that time 50 years ago that the Alpine purges were at its worst. Let's just say that a small principality called Liechtenstein was completely wiped off the map. Don't make me _repeat _that.

After a while, you sort of get used to it. But they still haven't lost their touch. It makes me wonder sometimes _what_ exactly they're trying to do or say. If that _is _them, anyway. Who really knows? Don't bother asking the Vatican. He's tried too.

I guess that's more than enough for one night. Need the rest myself. Go on. Just be back in the morning. And one more thing: expect _her_ to come around every now and then. She always does. Just remember that you're not in liberty to discuss private matters. _Fraulein_ Francesca would appreciate that.


End file.
